


Thanks for letting me in

by TwistedNym



Series: Some of us die young [4]
Category: Red Queen - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 09:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14102601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedNym/pseuds/TwistedNym
Summary: "Thanks, Mave."It's not just for the shirt. It's for letting him in. For staying. It's for that moment in the alley and the kiss on the bench.





	Thanks for letting me in

Thomas stares at the gate in horror. If he thought the center is the entryway to limbo this is indefinitely worse. The houses look clean, the street looks like someone has scrapped it clean. He can even imagine people bending down to pluck out the tiniest rest of grass that could destroy the perfect look."Changed my mind. Don't really think this is a good idea, pretty boy."  
  
"It'll be fine." Maven answers.  
  
"If anyone sees me you'll be in trouble."  
  
"No one can tell our relationship from one look." Maven huffs. The way he keeps distance Thomas can say it's probably true. It stings a little but it's only right and isn't he the one that always denies the possibility of a boyfriend? The world isn't friendly and it will not take this good.  
  
"And it's not like no Red ever comes here."  
  
"Right, need worker bees to keep the hill up and clean." The thought stings in a very different way. It stirs his disgust and the repulsion he feels for the rich folk.  
  
He's trying at least, Thomas thinks. But they both aren't the least confident.  
  
There's a tightness in Thomas' chest and he wonders why he agreed to come along.  
  
Maybe it's simple. Maybe it's stupid. It all started with them on their bench. That's right, theirs. Thomas enjoys the thought of something shared, a spot, even though he knows it's just sentimental. The bench doesn't have their name on it or anything.  
  
They are leaning against each other. Thomas bites the pencil in his hand, crunching wood in his teeth. He likes the way it feels. The way the pen yields and the wood gives in, forming his toothmarks.  
  
"That's disgusting." Maven exclaims when he first watches the gnawing.  
  
"Know what's disgusting?" Thomas says with a mouthful of pencil. There are tiny pieces of wood in his mouth and it tastes awful. Be he won't say a word. "Seafood. Dog shit on a good and cozy spot in the park. This? Nah, it's calming."  
  
"You'll hurt your teeth."  
  
"And what does a homeless Red teenager care about his teeth?"  
  
It's not one of the good pencils. They just get out if he channels his inner Picasso. He's not pulling the sketchbook out in front of Maven. He can't. Because as much as he likes it, it is still hard. It's a reminder of debt and debt isn't good. Debt is weakness.  
  
He realizes he hasn't even said thank you. He probably never will. For the better. Acknowledged debt is even worse than just taking it. The sketchbook is safely secured in one paper bag he leaves at Farley's. He trusts everyone enough to not steal it. Nothing in there has any value. It's just a dirty sweater and a book.  
  
Maven isn't like fidgeting, he's reading and concentrated. When Thomas studies the curve of his jaw and the way his eyes move he can't deny his attraction. And then he notices how little he really knows.  
  
"I want to know everything about you." Thomas blurts out. By now sometimes Maven's eyes get that look when Thomas spits out words like this like he is just blabbering back and forth in a ridiculous way and Maven puts up with it because that's what you do when you like someone and don't want to disappoint them. Which isn't so untrue. Thomas is aware he has...his moments, to put it mildly. Especially in their relationship. Whatever it might be.  
  
"That's good, I suppose." Maven says.  
  
"Dude." Thomas shakes his head. "You don't get it. I want to know everything. I want to stay. That's scary and strange. And a compliment."  
  
He bailed out on Maven once, and though none of them ever attempted to talk it out, sometimes it still stands between them. It adds another touch of draining anxiety and uncertainty. "I feel very flattered, Thomas, thank you."  
  
"Pff." Thomas makes a very wet and drool filled sound. "Don't believe it? You better should. I'll prove it."  
  
"I'm curious about how you would accomplish that." There's something frail and touching in the uncomfortable way Maven offers the words. Like he isn't used to people being genuinely interested in nothing but him.  
  
Behind all that facade, Thomas understands too well. People never look closely.  
  
"You could tell me about your family. I'm not, eh, pressuring or anything. I mean I could just look up everything anyway, I'm sure there's tons of stuff about your parents. Not like I have internet, but I could go find it. There's still a library and stuff."  
  
The thought of that makes Maven clam up again.  
  
"But I won't," Thomas says in a hurry to stop the gates from closing. "Problem is, I really like you. And I really just wanna know what makes you tick."  
  
"You could just take a look." He says after a long moment of silence.  
  
"Look? I am looking pretty closely. " Thomas lets his eyes wander down meaningful. "At every part of you, by the way. And I like what I see."  
  
"No. We both know that's not how I meant it." It's still utterly fascinating how easy Thomas has it in himself to make the other one uncomfortable. Though he doesn't seem comfortable in his own skin anyway most days. " Don't make me spell it out."  
  
Thomas turns away, staring at the bitten end of the pencil as if it the most fascinating thing he has ever seen. "Are you inviting me up to the hills? Tempting, your Highness."  
  
"I'll regret offering judging by that smug look on your face. But yes."  
  
" Excuse me," he thinks a second about throwing the pencil in the water, but what a waste would that be. Despite the bitten parts, there's still enough on it to use. He slips it into his pockets, where it accompanies a few slips of paper and the wrapper of something he has eaten. "That's my normal face. My smug face looks way more dirty." With a little smile, Thomas leans over. "Thanks, for inviting me and stuff. I'm not sure if I can take the offer. But thanks."  
  
"You didn't burn when you stepped in the center. I am positive you could stand going there. And I'd be there too."  
  
"Well, yeah, wouldn't consider going if you ditched me. "  
  
"It'll take some precaution anyway. Let's discuss this another time."  
  
Maven stands up, and Thomas watches. He's positively surprised when he steals the tiniest of kisses, fluttering and soft like the wings of a butterfly. Thomas' head tilts upwards like a flower to the sun. Who'd known he would settle for something tiny. It's sweet and he isn't good with sweet. It's turning his stomach. He's willing to take it for now, not able to turn away anyway.  
  
"You're cute." Thomas breathes when their lips have long parted. "That was cute."  
  
"For god's sake, Thomas, stop saying that. I'm not a cat."  
  
"Yeah no, cats aren't cute. " Thomas snorts when he sees the wrinkled nose. "You a cat person? Sorry, we can't meet anymore."  
  
And simple as that, the upcoming Friday evening Thomas finds himself stuffed in a bus and then trotting up a too clean paved way under the artificial white lights of lanterns lighting the sidewalk despite the sun just slowly sinking and the pink sky. The gates are scary as hell but no one stops him since he's clearly accompanied.  
  
"It'll be fine." Maven repeats. Thomas rubs his elbow, where the cloth of the hoodie is wearing thin. At least it's only a little dirty. There's a sticky spot on it because along the bus ride someone spilled a smoothie or whatever that bubbly colored monstrosity was all over his seat.  
  
The girl was nice enough about it, but Thomas was too nervous to say much and smiled through her apologies.  
  
Also, it covers the scratches he has from sleeping and climbing fences. He's often squeezing into too tight corners.  
  
"So, you have the house all to yourself?"  
  
"My mother is out of town. My father never comes home on weekends anyway. And my brother leaves on Fridays. "  
  
That's the most Maven has ever said about his family. Despite the fists at his side and the frowning, Thomas already thinks it is worth it he comes up here.  
  
"Popular kid, huh?"  
  
"You've got no idea." Maven mutters, and here's something bitter in his tightly pressed lips and flaring nostrils. There's something Thomas doesn't really get. Sure, his sisters can be a pain in the ass, but he'd throw himself under the bus for them.  
  
But he's not that surprised. That family dynamic seems to be way off.  
  
He leaves the topic alone for now.  
  
They walk in silence. It's not the usual kind. This one hovers and stretches, and it makes Thomas nervous.  
  
There's a little girl in the yard in front of one of the smaller, albeit still monstrous big in Thomas opinion, houses. She has a ball in one of her hands, and her skirt is glittering in the light.  
  
"You got kids up here," Thomas says. Because he has never thought about it. He has never seen a smaller kid in the city, or maybe he just couldn't tell it was silver. Or didn't care. The girl whirls around in her skirt and throws the ball.  
  
She's the same age as Thomas younger sister.  
  
He stops and stares.  
  
"I didn't think you were in need of explanations for basic biology." Maven stops in his tracks reluctantly. "Or did you think silver people grow on trees?"  
  
"No, no that's not it." Thomas shakes his head and tears his gaze away. "I've looked up at the hills so many times but all I've seen wasn't. I don't know, dude, real. But you got families too. Sometimes it's easy to forget that, I guess."  
  
Something flickers behind Maven's eyes, but it quickly hides away again and he turns to walk.  
  
Thomas follows. "Why were you looking like that? Did I something wrong?"  
  
For a while, Maven doesn't answer, concentrated to guide them through small streets and sidewalks, along neatly trimmed bushes and high fences buzzing with electricity. When he stops, they are hidden behind metal and green leaves, curling along a high fence.  
  
The path is small and leads between two houses. It's not made for cars or even more than one person. They fill the gap now that they stand next to each other.  
  
"No, you didn't do something wrong." Maven whispers. "You have a good heart, Thomas. It's very admirable."  
  
A good heart. Thomas wants to laugh but he just snorts before he reaches over and touches Maven's cheek. His fingertips draw a line down the finely structured bones and the soft skin before they come to rest. They curl along Maven's jaw gently.  
  
"People think I say the weirdest things, but look at you, pretty boy. Nothing on good ol' I is admirable."  
  
The moment the pale finger clutch his makes his breath hitch."Would you be here with me if that was true?"  
  
Thomas isn't trusting his voice. Or the words that might come out. He isn't trusting anything, now that his heart is galloping in his chest. All the thoughts he can gather are primarily sugar coated or very, very dirty, and he doesn't want any of them out.  
  
He's staring. He can feel the way it's making Maven mortified because usually, Thomas is all air and words. Thomas pulls his hand back.  
  
"How far, Mave?" He coughs the words out. They are kinda hard when all he really wants to do is push his not boyfriend up against the fence. But that would not be taking it slow.  
  
"Almost there."  
  
" Lead the way."  
  
He hates this place for what it is and what it isn't. Moving along feels strangely similar to moving through the Stilts, but for all the different reasons.  
  
There's a long driveway leading to the biggest house Thomas has ever been close to in reality. It could probably fit in a lot of those poor excuses of apartments in the Stilts or downtown.  
  
A black eye stares down from the gate.  
  
Thomas takes a step back but Maven is unfazed. "I shut the cameras off before I picked you up." He says. "I checked if anyone was home and there are no cars. It's probably still for the better if you don't use the front door."  
  
"That's how I like it, right through-"  
  
Maven cuts him off sober and straight. "If you say something about a backdoor I'll never talk to you again."  
  
Thomas chuckles. "It's like you have known me all my life, Mave."  
  
It all screams trespassing on him. But he's a good trespasser. He's learned much about sneaking around and not getting caught these past weeks.  
  
Sure, sometimes it's not working, but most times it does.  
  
He's wrong and doesn't fit in with the neatly trimmed grass and cobbles. Everything is glass and black and white like someone drained it out of every color.  
  
Maven opens a glass door and Thomas slips inside, tiptoeing inside a shining and very clean room. Judging by the unused stove and the silver fridge he landed in the kitchen.  
  
It feels colder. Thomas thinks of the wooden planks that are the kitchen cabinet at his families home, at dust dancing in sunshine, and his mother over a stirring pot.  
  
That's what a kitchen is supposed to look like. Not this metal monster.  
  
"Your shoes." Is all Maven says and Thomas slips out of his boots just to feel the cold ground under his naked toes.  
  
It feels like some weird alternative reality to actually be here.  
  
The living room is a waste of open space. There are one or two pictures, shining in clean silver frames. Thomas takes a peek at one and sees Maven, only slightly younger, and his supposedly older brother. They don't look as much alike as Thomas and his sisters, but he's not an expert on genetics, and so he just studies their relaxed faces. Uh, whoever made that picture clearly has gotten both their good sides, ridiculous how good they look. The popular kid, Thomas thinks. All right. If I ever see meet you, I know at least you got a nice crooked smile. The other is one of those family pictures that weird Thomas out and remind him of a horror movie, with old black and white pictures of a woman on a chair and a dude behind her, as a story gets told about curses and madness.  
  
He just takes a shuddering short look at the stiff faces and at Mavens mother in blue and moves back.  
  
He steps into the hallway and follows the white rabbit. Or the blue hooded boy, in that case.  
  
At the end of the hallway, Maven steps through a door. Thomas follows and feels the metal of the handle. The door makes no sound as it swings open.  
  
"Ha." Is all Thomas makes as he looks around the room. It's very Maven. It's clean, but there are papers and comics stacked everywhere, and the top shelves are hanging full of stuff from video games or said comics. There's some kind of banner hanging from behind the desk, and Thomas whistles through his teeth when he steps closer.  
  
"What?" Maven asks, a little irritated. He looks as pale and nervous as Thomas feels.  
  
"This room is like a nerdcastle. I knew it the moment I saw you."  
  
"So what? If you want to make fun, get it out of your system."  
  
Thomas makes a long face. "Mave, pretty boy, I live in a dumpster, I am not qualified to make fun of hobbies."  
  
Maven lifts his eyebrow.  
  
"You actually live in a dumpster?"  
  
Thomas drops down on the bed like a stone, without even asking, leaving his bag and his boots in front of it. It's soft and irritating. He hasn't slept in a real bed for a long time. "Yeah, sometimes. It's warm in there. Better than the open road."  
  
He stretches all his limbs as long as he can, destroying the neatly made bed and pushing the blanket away in the process. His sleeve gets tangled up and the angry red scratches look worse than they feel on the tanned skin.  
  
"Nice room," he says.  
  
"Thanks." Maven sits down next to him.  
  
All in all, this is going along smoother than he expected.  
  
There's still the matter of him getting out here in one piece, but Thomas tells himself he'll think of something later. Improvise or something.  
  
It smells nice, the pillow he pushes his face into, that is.  
  
"Where did you get those scratches?"  
  
"Fought a raccoon."  
  
The look is mildly displeased. Thomas rolls his eyes.  
  
"All right no I didn't wrestle a raccoon. Would be a better story tho."  
  
Maven leans over him, and Thomas blinks and watches him, too lazy to get up.  
  
"Relax," Thomas chuckles when he feels the careful examining hands on his arm and he's glad Maven wasn't there when the hobos beat him up for a warm place to sleep. " It's not like I'll drop dead. You can be so fuzzy."  
  
Maven makes another indifferent noise, but it's good-natured this time.  
  
"Someone has to, and you're not caring for yourself."  
  
Thomas takes a deep breath. It's like people expect him to tug his tail and run home to his family. He's promised to show them all. Maven hasn't pressed the matter for a while. Not since Thomas meltdown over the sketchbook. But now, with them both on the bed and Thomas staring at the white ceiling, it's getting under his skin.  
  
"Okay, getting me stuff is one thing, and it's still not going to be a regular, because I swear, I don't want anything you have to buy. But I am able to live on my own. So stop being a party pooper and chill. Seriously."  
  
The bed shifts beside him and the warmth of the hand lingering on his arm is gone.  
  
There's a moment of rummaging before Thomas decides to get up and see what this is about. He stares at Maven pulling out a shirt.  
  
"Is this because I am sticky? It's a one-time thing." Thomas stares at the shirt. There's a figure printed on it. " Did you know the character was supposed to be red? But that was obviously a foul apple. So they decided to redesign-"Mavens eyes watch his every move." What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"I don't live under a rock, it's just a ghetto. Or a garbage disposal." Thomas feels the need to defend himself. " And my sister is kind of into old games. She's cool. You'd like her. You gonna give the shirt to me or what?"  
  
"It was in a collectors edition and I got it two numbers too big." Maven hands the shirt over. "Also, I am lending it to you so better take care."  
  
Thomas appreciates that lending thing. It means there's no gift and no debt. When Maven isn't looking he takes a sniff and inhales the pleasant smell. The shirt smells clean but someone has clearly worn it for a short time. Probably to check how big it is or how it fits. Is that weird? Is smelling a shirt weird?  
  
Ah, who cares about weird anyway.  
  
"Thanks, Mave."  
  
It's not just for the shirt. It's for letting him in. For staying willingly.  
  
It's for that moment in the alley and the kiss on the bench.  
  
If Thomas was sure this is the right moment, he would just straight up confess his love, or whatever that feeling that makes him come back for more every day is. And probably make Maven turn away or clam up.  
  
A thank you will have to do.  
  
He's painfully aware of the ribs piercing through his skin and the hip bones standing out sharply when he slips out of his hoodie. He knows those blue eyes probably see every scar and the hollow of skin, scratched and bruised. It's nothing Thomas wants to see and he's glad there isn't a mirror nearby.  
  
Crossed arms watching Maven takes it all in, and Thomas doesn't even try to turn away when he puts on the too big shirt.  
  
"Wanna just hang out in your room? Or show me around? Ooohh, please tell me there is something over the top in the basement. Like, a pool or a whatever rich people have."  
  
"A pool is the best you come up with?"  
  
"What," Thomas asks inquisitively. "Is better than a pool?"  
  
Maven shrugs. "Follow me and maybe you'll find out."  
  
"Dude, now you HAVE to show me."  
  
The house is big and despite his, prejudice Thomas sees it's what every person should have. A roof over their head. It still feels too empty and too big, and there's so many unnecessary stuff in it. He also learns a lot. Though they don't talk constant about Mavens family, there are bits and pieces Thomas can pick up.  
  
"So your brother is busy. And he won't be back today."  
  
"I already told you." Maven bristles. He resembles something spiky.  
  
Thomas follows wordlessly for a moment.  
  
His naked toes are feeling cold when they step over the dark wood and black tiles that fill the hallways and rooms. "I kind of don't get the deal with you and your brother. Is that a love-hate thing?"  
  
Maven presses his lips together to a thin line before he answers. "He's not really my brother. Only half. His mother died."  
  
Thomas sighs, giving it one last try. "That's terrible. But doesn't answer my question."  
  
"I don't have a simple answer." Maven says and turns away. As if that settles anything.  
  
In the end, there IS a pool. Thomas rolls up the legs of his jeans and dips his feet in. The water is definitely warmer than his last showers or the ice-cold streams of muddy water in the train station toilets. And it's cleaner. There are small lights on the sides of the pool, pointing white lights, and it's the only light in the room. His feet splash a little and draw lines and circles back and forth.  
  
"Want to take a swim?"  
  
"I'm not really a great swimmer. Never liked it much."  
  
Thomas blows a strand of hair out of his eyes and sinks his legs even more into the water, up to the ankles. "You know, for a rich kid, you're not very adventurous. I mean apart from the day you decided to burn down a house."  
  
"You're right." Maven puts his hands in his pockets, shoulders drawn up.  
  
Thomas gets up and almost slips on the wet tiles. "That wasn't, ugh, I didn't wanna sound mean."  
  
"No, it's okay," Maven's eyes get a tinge bigger when Thomas pushes the shirt over his head.  
  
"What? It's made for swimming. So I swim."  
  
"Knock yourself out, towels are over there" Maven stands very still on the furthest corner from the pool. "I prefer to watch if you don't mind."  
  
"Yeah," Thomas clicks his tongue and throws his pants away. He remembers jumping into the river with his sisters once, but this is something else. He really doesn't want to know how thin and strained he looks and makes sure to get in the water as fast as possible, even though he still wears his underwear. "I bet you do."  
  
Thomas holds his breath as much as he can and dives in. The water isn't shallow enough for his feet to reach the ground. His ears make a weird sound before it's all quiet. There are only water and his heartbeat, and he keeps it as long as he can. Ducking under as his body is floating up. Things would be easier if he could just stay underwater forever. For a while, he repeats the diving until his eyes burn because he has opened them in the chlorine to many times. Then he just floats along, lazy, blinking into the half dark room. Despite his dislike for the water, Maven has settled by the edge of the pool, head tugged on his knees. He's not looking at anything in particular, quiet and somehow really lonely. Which doesn't make things easier when Thomas is floating merely a foot away.  
  
Thomas takes two long strokes and makes it to the edge too. Water throws up little waves.  
  
"I really didn't mean to come off wrong." The small white lights reflected by the water make Mavens eyes very blue. Thomas leans his head on the edge and smiles. "I like the way you are."  
  
"I appreciate that, Thomas." Their hands find each other, searching the tiles for a moment, hesitating, and the grip is reassuring and gentle. "For the most part, I like the way you are too."  
  
"The most part?" Thomas snorts and grips Maven's hand hard.  
  
"Don't dare to push me in."  
  
"The most part?" he repeats, still not letting go. " That actually makes sense. I never said I was anything but terrible."  
  
"That is not what I meant by that." Maven looks mildly alarmed. " If you push me in I'm going to be very, very-"  
  
Thomas makes a grimace and pulls his arm away. "I'm not that kind of an ass." He splashes some small waves in Mavens general direction. The only answer to that is the feet retreating even more. "For the most part."  
  
"Oh, Thomas."  
  
"Whatever. Pfff." Thomas pushes himself under water again, and though it really hurts, he opens his eyes again, seeing Maven's blurred form over the surface, staring down.  
  
It's a little like they are always in water, there are so many blurry edges. But there's still time to get out and have a clearer look, isn't there? And this is definitely progress. A lot of it.  
  
Thomas mother always said he was impatient and it's true, that is why he wants to slow down now.  
  
For a while, Thomas just floats around again on his back, not really swimming.  
  
The water throws waves back and forth the tiles. His eyes are starting to hurt, but he blinks it away as good as he can, not willing to get out.  
  
The chiming of a phone breaks the silence.  
  
"I've got to take that." Maven says and stands up. He clenches his teeth for the fraction of a second and Thomas knows exactly who's calling.  
  
"Yes?" Maven says and Thomas makes a face before he decides to jump out of the water, making a small wave as he climbs up the ladder.  
  
"No, I'm alone. " Maven says before he glares over to Thomas, who's just tiptoeing to the famed towels. "Well, he's around somewhere, but I am alone at the pool. No, I didn't. No, you know neither of us likes water that much.  
  
Thomas can't understand the questions from the other side of the call. He tries to look sympathetic as he rubs his hair and neck with the towel.  
  
"No, nothing happened. And I am quite sure nothing will. Yes, mother, I haven't forgotten."  
  
When he steps closer, Maven makes a dismissive wave, almost shoo-in Thomas away like he's a pigeon on the sidewalk.  
  
Thomas shakes his head and is unfazed by the enthusiastic shoo-in. People shoo-in doesn't work since he's twelve anymore.  
  
"Yes, I would have called if that was the case, but really, there's no reason to worry." He snakes an arm around Maven's waist. There's a little-concentrated pause as Maven tries to keep his breath.  
  
"No, no reason at all."  
  
That's right, Thomas mouths before he settles for a hug because Maven looks like he needs it.  
  
"Can I call you back later? I think I might have heard something, I just want to make sure-"  
  
There's a discussion. It's civilized, but awful formal, like a talk with a lawyer. Five excuses and two more squeezing hugs later the phone call ends.  
  
The button on the phone is pressed with more force than necessary. "What was that about?" Maven hisses." What if she had heard you?"  
  
"I didn't say a word," Thomas says honestly like he just got called as a witness in a murder case. "And for a moment you looked like you would freak out, so I figured hugging would do no harm."  
  
"I am not freaking out. I just don't like lying to my mother."  
  
"Well then don't." Thomas shrugs leaning against Maven's shoulder. "Go tell the world you're dallying with the enemy or whatever."  
  
Maven doesn't answer. It's the answer Thomas expected all along.  
  
"Yeah we both know it's not happening," Thomas whispers.  
  
Mavens arms are holding back onto him tightly. "But it is. This is real, isn't it?"  
  
The desperation seeps right through the embrace right into Thomas' bones. "You ask me? I don't know." He presses his face against the warm neck, breathing in deep. If it's real, it's getting scary. But it's too much to handle even now. So does that really make any difference? For a moment, Thomas only closes his eyes and feels a hammering heartbeat under his nose. "Feels real. And smells good."  
  
Maven makes a stifled sound. "You're getting cold."  
  
"Are you telling me to get dressed? Gee, that's a first. "  
  
The rest of the evening is almost normal. It's weirdly enough the most boring and normal thing ever. They settle on the couch and eat, turning on the big Tv. And though Thomas isn't getting comfortable on the couch because it's stiff and smells too new and too clean he's okay with it. Because he extends his arm around Maven's shoulder and gets to make some stupid comments about the movie they are watching.  
  
"I don't have a degree in something fancy and dropped outta school." Thomas snorts and his fingers twitch on Maven's shoulder. "But even dumbass me knows that's not how any of this works!"  
  
"Wait," Maven's eyes turn slowly. "You did not complain about the inconsistency of magic when the villain destroyed the stronghold."  
  
"Because that was cool," Thomas says, looking like he needs to explain the most obvious thing in the world. "We know where this will end. The good guy gets the girl and the bad gets thrown in a volcano or eaten by a dragon or whatever. Freaking boring."  
  
Maven makes an indifferent noise and turns away. Thomas doesn't let it go.  
  
"I want a movie where the Dark Lord of Chaos and destruction gets tired of the good guys being shiny and clever and just goes full rampage, nuking them with magic instead of being stupid."  
  
"And then the world ends." Maven comments drily.  
  
Thomas grips his shoulder, pulling him against his side. Warmth is spreading through his shirt where they touch. There's a long pause and a nervous hesitated breath before he feels Maven curl up on his chest. His hair tickles Thomas chin as he settles his head.  
  
"Nah, it's just getting unfair for the small people," Thomas whispers, breathing in deep. For once, it's calming him. Also, Maven smells nice. "Not like we don't know that yet."  
  
Eventually, the flickering lights of the Tv retreat into the background and there's more huddling up together and a very long kiss. It's the best thing ever, with no awkward pause. Just two mouths and eager hands.  
  
The couch is still awful and uncomfortable. Thomas almost rolls off and down on the floor when he miscalculates a move. The pool has damaged his eyes and they burn. He doesn't care.  
  
There's more kissing after that. And the warmth of arms holding onto him. There are whispered voices and some bad jokes. Somehow they fall half asleep along the process, curled up and limbs tangled, and when Thomas notices how late it is, he regrets even looking at the clock, but he knows it's for the best.  
  
" Next time I'll stay." He promises though he isn't sure how to accomplish that.


End file.
